One day, my father, the shoemaker, tired of seeing me cry because I always came at last in the races of the school, made me a pair of running shoes with a pair of little wings on its sides, with which, according to him, I'd never lose another race; but I never knew if the running shoes worked or not, because I never wore them, I was ashamed of wearing a pair of running shoes with little wings on its sides.
The end.
